Queens of Westeros, Queens of Essos
by Infinite Fantasies
Summary: "What if the Iron throne belongs to not one but two queens?" In no way do the story and character appearances follow the original book/TV series plots. Updates are random, depending on a typical university student's workload. Would probably update more around Season 7 to get in the mood ;) For now, please bare with the random ideas that spurt up from time to time.
1. Dorne

Along the southern shore of Sunspear, two girls picked up their long dresses above their ankles and walked in the direction of Greenblood river.

'Rosie, how long do you think one would take if she walks from Sunspear to Greenblood?'

The straight blonde hair girl thought for a moment before answering, 'It takes 3 days from Sunspear to Planky Town by boat. You'll probably need more than a week to walk there my dear Myrcella.'

'Well then, I will ask Prince Doran if we can sail on the Summer sea someday to Greenblood and stop by at Planky Town. We will still be in Dorne anyway.' Myrcella brushed back her curly blonde locks and looked back. Ser Arys Oakheart paced forward in silence while the Dornish guards behind enjoyed the view of the evening Summer Sea. Her entourage kept a close distance, but far enough so that she and Rosamund could have some private time together.

Rosamund was sent from Lannisport by Myrcella's uncle, Tyrion Lannister, as a handmaid - along with Ser Arys Oakheart of the Kingsguard. The girls could pass off as twins from afar due to the similarities in their facial and body features; especially the golden hair and blue topaz eyes. As both of them bonded while growing up in Dorne, Myrcella and Rosamund never kept secrets from each other. Myrcella was the only one who knew that Rosamund was in love with Prince Quentyn; the elder son of Prince Doran. She wholeheartedly supported Rosamund's love, as they would be both cousins and in-laws when Myrcella marries Prince Trystan, the youngest son of Prince Doran as arranged by her uncle.

Far ahead in front of them, a figure sat down next to the small boat, looking towards the sea. 'Myrcella, look over there! Is that a person?'

Myrcella walked faster, Rosamund caught up and they broke into a race towards the boat.

'Do you need help?' Myrcella spoke with her gentle voice. The young man looked up and met her gaze.

She felt a deep connection with the owner of those solid brown eyes.

The man spoke in a tired and coarse voice. 'I'd like to know where I am.'

Rosamund gave a swift answer. 'Sunspear of Dorne. Where are you from?'

'King's Landing. I mean, Dragonstone. That's where I sailed from.' He coughed and wiped the sweat on his forehead with the back of the hand, making it even dirtier than before.

'We're from King's Landing as well!' The talkative Rosamund began her chatter. Making new friends was not Myrcella's forte, she preferred to keep a few close companions.

The entourage caught up. 'Princess, please back away while we take care of this man.' With a swift movement, Ser Arys and the guards seized the man by the arms and pulled him up.

'Let go of him, Ser Arys.' Myrcella commanded. 'What are you doing to this poor man? Can't you see that he barely has any energy to speak. Bring me some water and bread from our lunch basket immediately.'

'We will provide for him, Princess, but what if he sits here on purpose to wait for an opportunity to assassinate you?'

'You will do as I say. You know me well enough to know that I never neglect the hungry and unfortunate wherever I go.'

Rosamund agreed. 'Also Ser Arys, this man said he is from King's Landing! Surely, he could mean no harm. What was your name again?' She waited for the man's answer.

'Gendry.'

'Do you not have a last name?'

'No my lady, I am a commoner. A blacksmith.'

'Do you see now Ser Arys. Gendry is clearly not a murderer.' Rosamund walked up to the guard who was holding the lunch basket and took out a loaf of bread and a canteen. 'Please take this, Gendry.'

The man finished the entire canteen and bread without hesitating.

Myrcella studied Gendry's face and wondered how familiar his features are. Perhaps she was used to seeing the faces of Dornish so much that she forgot how people in King's Landing looked like.

'If you would like, Gendry, please come with us so that we can provide you further assistance.'

'My lady, I would gladly come along.'

'You, young man, will address this _lady_ as your Highness. If you are truly from King's Landing, you would know who Princess Myrcella Baratheon is.' Ser Arys eyed Gendry suspiciously.

'Yes, your Highness.' Gendry lowered his head.

'You can just call me Rosie though. Rosamund Lannister.' The straight haired girl smiled. 'My dear Myrcella, do you think it is time we head back? We should head back before the sun sets.'

'Ser Arys, We'll return now.' Myrcella started to head back to the horses. She stopped when the guards grabbed Gendry's arms again. 'This man will not be accompanied by the guards. I will.'

The Dornish guards waited for Ser Arys's command and let go. Myrcella motioned Gendry to walk next to her and Rosamund. _I may not have a lot of friends, but he may be another one._


	2. Meereen

Myrcella's Dornish handmaids were waiting for her return at the main palace gate. Once she got off the horse, she instructed two of her handmaids to take Gendry to the Shower garden. Ser Arys, still doubting whether the man is trustworthy or not, followed them as well. After Gendry was escorted away, Rosamund linked arms with Myrcella and they headed towards the East gardens.

'My dear, we will get along with Gendry! He seems so warm and friendly.' Rosamund spoke with joy in her eyes.

* * *

'Your Grace, a raven from the Wall. The Night's Watch.' Varys handed a script to Daenerys Targaryen.

'Night's Watch?' She broke the seal and read the message. After the last sentence, she threw the script on the floor and began with an angered voice. 'Please tell me, advisor, why does the Lord Commander require my dragons at the Wall? I do not know him, nor does he know me. If Westeros is truly mighty, this Lord Commander wouldn't be asking for my help. Who does he think he is to take my dragons, as if they are just toys, away from me?'

Tyrion picked up the script and read the content. 'Your Grace, allow me to explain.' He looked at the girl in front of him. The queen of Meereen acts like she knows everything in the world but she is naïve when it comes to matters in Westeros - the land that she has never set foot on. 'Winter is coming. That may be why Jon Snow wants the dragons to be there.'

Daenerys wanted to understand desperately what her advisor said, but her ego held her head up high. 'So what, advisor?'

'Before I continue, Your Grace, would you please _listen_ to me. You do not know everything.'

'Hold your tongue, dwarf. Do not speak to the queen in that manner.' Ser Barristan Selmy threatened.

Tyrion sighed. 'As I was saying, Your Grace, winter is coming. It means that the entire Westeros will be covered in snow. Except for Dorne of course, the most southern region of Westeros. What comes with winter are called Whitewalkers. They are the undead. Only Dragonglass - or obsidian - can kill a Whitewalker.'

'This has nothing to do with my dragons.'

'Your Grace. Please.' Tyrion walked up a few steps towards Daenerys, rubbing his crooked nose. 'If you want me to advise around here. May I not be disturbed? Jon Snow wants your dragons because when winter comes, it will be the battle between the living and the dead. Also, I'd like to note that maester Aemon is the one who signed the message. Would you like to know who this maester is?'

Daenerys stood up from her bench. 'Why should I care about some maester on another side of the world who advises the Night's Watch and not me.'

'Perhaps you would like to know that you are not the only living Targaryen, your Grace. Maester Aemon was Prince Aemon Targaryen by birth. He is your great uncle.'

Slowly, Daenerys sat down as Tyrion's words rang in her head. _You are not the only living Targaryen._

Messandei spoke up in High Valyrian. 'Dear advisor, I think we shall call it a day.' She motioned Daenerys to stand up and return to her chambers but the queen did not move.

Daenerys stared at the short man below her. 'How do you know for sure?'

'This is why in Westeros, we have maesters to educate the children so they know some history when they grow up.' Tyrion muttered to himself. 'Your Grace, the maester of house Lannister is the one who taught me. Unlike my father and brother who uses weapons to fight, I use my brain. I to learn things that others deemed as useless. Someday, it may become useful. Just like High Valyrian. Who would've thought that a Westerosi landed in Essos could speak this language.' He looked at Messandei.

'Your father was Aerys the Second. His father was Aegon the Fifth. Aemon refused the throne after Aerion - the eldest of the siblings who sat on the Iron throne - drank wildfire and died. Aemon left King's Landing for the Night's Watch and served as a maester; dropped his last name and titles like everyone else at the Wall. The throne was then passed onto your grandfather, Aegon the Fifth, who was Aemon's younger brother.'

Silence fell in the throne room. The queen blinked a few times, looking ashamed for not knowing her family history. 'So you are telling me, advisor, that my great uncle is the one who wants the dragons to be at the wall?'

Tyrion took a deep breath. 'Your Grace, even if we send the dragons over, no one can control them. Not even you - you still have them chained up under this pyramid. It is true that only Targaryens can ride dragons. But I would like you to know that maester Aemon is over 100 years old. It is unlikely that he would know how to ride one, let alone seeing and riding one. He is blind because of his age.'

'I know that my dragons are not ready. I never said they were.' Daenerys looked towards the round, bold man. 'Varys, please send a word to maester Aemon, tell him that I request his presence in Meereen.'

'Right away, your Grace.' Varys scurried outside.

'The Night's Watch cannot abandon their duties, your Grace.' Tyrion paced down the steps. 'Not especially if the orders are not coming from King's Landing.'

'You told me before that the small council in King's Landing never bothers with the affairs at the Wall. My only living relative is half a world away. I must see him. He will advise me here in Meereen.'

'Which is the exact same reason why Aemon chose to become a maester at the Night's Watch - so that he doesn't become involved with the politics in both Westeros and Essos.'

'It's easy for you to say, you never left the comforts of your land or your family. You will never understand what I have been through. After all, should I remind you that your brother murdered my father?' Deep in the Queen's purple eyes, Tyrion sensed revenge. He sighed again.

'If maester Aemon does accept the invite, what would you do afterwards?'

'He will help me take back my rightful throne, even if it means that I have to exterminate all Houses from Westeros.'

'And _how_ will he exactly do that?'


	3. The Wall

No one understood how Jon Snow felt when Aemon Targaryen took his last breath. He has lost the sole guidance that full supported his role as the Lord Commander - besides Samwell Tarly, that is. Jon cupped his face in his rough hands, breathing steadily as he mentally prepared for tomorrow. The solemn faces of the black-cloaked men will all be present for the maester's funeral. Afterwards, they will come and get Jon Snow with hatred. He could not possibly imagine another day without Aerys at the Night's watch. No, there _is_ no tomorrow. Jon looked over to the fireplace, contemplating Aemon's last words before the fragile hand Jon was holding became lifeless.

 _"_ As much as you are needed here, I believe that you are much more needed besides my great grand-niece. The folks here will strip you off the Lord Commander's title and make you suffer in all possible ways here the moment you step out to see them. You do not belong to the cold. I can sense that, from the first day, you are not made by ice. The fire that burns in you is not because of your youth, but because you are - one of us. Leave before sunrise. Stay by her side. By all means, tell her that she ... she is not the only Targaryen that is living."


End file.
